United Through Trauma
by That Anti-Social Teen
Summary: No slash! Harry and Draco are both beaten at home and had similarly awful childhoods. Hogwarts is their only escape. What will happen when Draco discovers a little bit about Harry's pre-Hogwarts life? Sorry I'm awful at descriptions and please give it a try! Rated M for Abuse and Physical Violence
1. Chapter 1

Harry woke up and smiled. It was his fifth birthday, meaning he was finally as old as Dudley. He got himself dressed and ran out to prepare breakfast.

Harry's eyes watered as he accidentally burnt his hand on the pan he was cooking bacon in. He had finished making breakfast and setting the table when Uncle Vernon came in, a struggling Dudley in his beefy arms.

"Go to your cupboard, boy!" snarled Uncle Vernon.

"But sir, it's my birthday and I was hoping that maybe I could eat today?"

Vernon put Dudley down in his high chair that he was now way too big to use. He advanced on Harry, lifting him up by his neck. He slammed him against the wall then dropped him on the floor. Harry whimpered in pain as Uncle Vernon proceeded to kick him. Harry had long since learned not to cry out in pain, even as he felt his small ribs break.

"Actually, seeing as it is your birthday, I wanted to try something new"

Harry dragged himself gingerly into a sitting position and looked hopefully up at his uncle.

Uncle Vernon went to the kitchen and pulled open a draw, having been working in the kitchen from the time he could stand Harry knew that this was where Aunt Petunia kept her knives. This could not be good.

Vernon pulled out a large, rusty carving knife. Harry could recall Aunt Petunia telling Uncle Vernon to throw that knife out, Vernon had insisted that he had a use for it, and that she'd find out when the time was right.

Uncle Vernon came over to the now convulsively shaking Harry. He grabbed his nephew's ankle, hoisting him upside down into the air. He shook Harry so that his seven-sizes-too-large shirt fell off his tiny frame.

Vernon carried Harry by his ankle to the sink and dropped him in, headfirst. He adjusted Harry into a more painful position. Harry tried not to move his unnaturally thin body, for fear of what his uncle might do if he did.

Vernon sneered and dragged the rusty blade across his nephew's trembling back, watching gleefully as bright, crimson blood glided over the bruised skin and down the drain.

Harry tried to muffle his scream, he felt the silent tears making tracks down his blood stained face.

Vernon dragged the blade across Harry's back numerous times over, until Harry was sobbing and pleading for mercy, Dudley was clapping in the background.

Uncle Vernon threw his nephew to the ground, spraying blood over the normally pristine floor.

"Now, boy. Go to your cupboard and make sure not to drip on the floor. You have half an hour until I want you back out and cleaning up this mess"

"Yes, sir" mumbled Harry, pulling himself slowly up off the ground and making his way slowly to his cupboard, dizzy with blood loss.

He closed the small cupboard door and collapsed onto the thin mattress on the floor, instantly drenching it.

He slowly moved, pulling the thin sheet out from under his body with trembling hands. He ripped off strips of fabric and tied them clumsily around himself.

He fell back onto the bed and blacked out.

LINE BREAK! I'M A LINE BREAK THAT YOU'RE READING FOR NO APPARENT REASON APART FROM THE FACT THAT I'M HERE! LINE BREAK!

"Draco, your father wants you in his office. Now." Narcissa Malfoy called into the bedroom of her five year old son.

"Yes, Mother" Draco called back, standing up and stowing his coloring book and crayons in his bookshelf.

Draco walked down the hallway, furiously rubbing at the many scars already present on his pale arms, wishing they would go away. His father had always told him that scars were a sign of weakness, and Draco didn't want to be weak.

Draco arrived at his destination and knocked on the door, thoroughly wishing that he could disappear. Lucius Malfoy flung the door open, it hit Draco in the nose and sent him flying into the wall.

"Come here you no good little-"

"I'm here father" said Draco, extracting himself from between the door and the wall and feeling the back of his head. His fingers came away sticky with blood.

Draco came in and Lucius slammed the door shut.

"I heard that you talked to a filthy Muggle yesterday when you went out with your mother"

"Yes father, but she wasn't filthy at all, she was actually really nice!"

" _Sectumsempra!_ " Lucius flicked his wand carelessly at his son, drawing brilliantly crimson blood from the boy's scarred arm, "You are never to say anything like that ever again, do you hear me? Muggles are filth! If I ever hear that you've been talking to filthy Muggles again you'll wish you were never born!"

"Yes father"

"Very good" Lucius flicked his wand again, drawing more blood and causing his son to fall to his knees, "Now. What was the name of the filthy Muggle you talked to?"

"H-Hermione Granger, but please father, don't hurt her. I know I was bad and bad people need to be punished, but Hermione never did anything wrong so you can hurt me all you want but please leave her alone!"

"Very well. _Crucio!_ " Lucius had never used this spell before and had great pleasure in watching Draco writhe around on the floor, whimpering all the while but not uttering a word against his father, after all, he'd been bad so it was only fair that he be punished accordingly. This was something Lucius had long since drilled into Draco's head.

Eventually Lucius got bored of watching his son writhe on the floor and took the spell off. He picked his son up and thrust him into the table. Draco's head hit the corner of the table and blood started to pour down his face and into his eyes.

Draco started to cry. Lucius kicked him with his pointy toed shoes (specially made to cause maximum damage to their target), drawing even more blood from Draco's side.

"You're a disgrace to the name of Malfoy and I'm ashamed to call you my son!" Draco tried to stem his tears, Lucius kicked him again, "Stop crying boy! You're a Malfoy and Malfoys do not cry!" Lucius accentuated his every word with a sharp kick to Draco's side.

"I'm sorry, father" gulped Draco.

"Good. You may leave" Draco got unsteadily to his feet and left, once he was out of sight of his father he ran. He ran down the hallway and past his room, falling on his face too many times to count. He ran the entire way down to the kitchens, where he knew he would find the house elves.

"Dobby? Magy? Dorry? Finy?" he continued to call out the names of the house elves he knew.

A small elf, Finy, peeked his head around a bench, spotting Draco and hurrying over.

"Oh dear, Master Lucius has been at it again!" squeaked the elf.

"Finy, can you help me?"

"Finy is sorry but Master Lucius told Finy and the other elves that they is not to be helping Master Draco or they is to be punished most badly"

Draco began to shake violently as sobs racked his small frame and he collapsed onto the ground.

AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME! AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME! AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME! AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME! AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME! AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME!

Hi guys! I just wanted to thank you for reading this far, you guys are all amazing! I hope you liked it as it is my first time writing anything like this. (Not my first Fan Fiction though). I would love it if you could review and I promise to reply to all your reviews as soon as possible. Thank you! Bye!


	2. Chapter 2

(several years later)

Harry lay on the stiff mattress in his cupboard, he was still recovering from yesterdays beating. Harry strained to remember what his offence had been. Oh, yes, it had been about the ridiculous rate at which he had been going through bed sheets (having to constantly rip them up to use as bandages).

Harry got lost in thoughts, none of them particularly happy. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been happy. In fact, he couldn't even remember his birthday, having never mentioned it since he was five, when Uncle Vernon had introduced the knife. The last thing Harry wanted was for Vernon to introduce something new (not that it had stopped him from introducing a whip to Harry's beatings). As far as Harry could figure, the last time he'd had a proper meal was before his parents had died in that car accident, and he showed it. Almost all his bones stuck out prominently under a thick layer of scarring, which was why he always covered up as much of his body as possible.

"Boy! Get the mail!" Harry was ripped out of his thoughts by his uncle's yell.

Harry stumbled down the hallway, not really being able to see where he was going. He knew that he had awful eyesight and really needed glasses but there was no way he would ask to see an optometrist, asking Uncle Vernon anything at all never ended well. Harry had learned to live with his poor eyesight. He reached down and grabbed the letters, bringing them up close to his face so that he could make out the letters.

 _Mr H. Potter_

 _The Cupboard under the Stairs_

 _4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging_

 _Surrey_

Harry thought that his eyesight must really be failing, who would write to a freak like him? Harry made to put the letter at the bottom of the pile but subconsciously slid it under the door to his cupboard instead.

"What's taking you so bloody long boy?"

"Sorry, sir!" said Harry, speed walking up the hallway and handing the letters to his Uncle, who promptly knocked him over.

"Dudley, could you please deal with the freak for me while I read the mail?"

"Gladly!" replied Dudley, smirking maliciously at his cousin. Harry didn't move as Dudley came over and stood on his face with his boat sized shoes. Dudley dragged Harry over to the wall and thrusted him up against it and began to practice his boxing, Harry didn't try to get away, he had long since learned that struggling only made it worse, especially with Dudley.

Soon enough, Uncle Vernon was done reading the mail.

"I'll take it from here, Dudders"

"But dad! I was having fun!"

"Why don't you go play with the new video game system we bought you last week?"

"Whatever" Dudley kneed Harry hard in the stomach before stomping up the stairs.

After Uncle Vernon's beating Harry dragged himself to his cupboard, completely forgetting about his letter, but by the time he remembered it was already too soaked in blood for Harry to read. He quickly ripped some strips from his newest sheet and bound his new wounds, the way he had done countless times before, he was actually getting pretty good though he knew that soon, Uncle Vernon would stop giving him sheets, and then what would he do? He lay down on the stiff mattress, it was solid with ten years worth of dried blood holding it together.

The next day Harry got the mail and gave it straight to his Uncle, without looking at what they said, lest he get beaten again. He then quickly got about cleaning up the blood left from yesterday's ordeal, having been too dizzy to do it then.

"Boy! Come here!" Harry put down the brush that he had been using to paint over the blood stains on the wall.

"Y-yes, sir?"

"You've been contacting someone about us, haven't you?"

"N-no, I w-would n-never -"

Uncle Vernon slapped him.

"Don't lie to me! If you haven't been contacting anyone then what is this?" Uncle Vernon held up a letter. Harry squinted at it, straining to make out the words on the front.

"I d-don't know!" said Harry, knowing what was coming next. Vernon picked him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him across the room, where he hit Aunt Petunia and knocked a delicate tray of tea out of her bony hands. Harry was covered in scalding hot tea and shards of broken crockery.

"HOW DARE YOU ATTACK MY WIFE!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

"S-sorry" whimpered Harry, trying to pull the shards of Aunt Petunia's favorite china tea set out of his arms.

Harry wished that he wasn't so small, for if he wasn't so short and malnourished then it would be a lot harder for Uncle Vernon to throw him around.

Vernon came over to where Harry was lying and put his foot on Harry's chest, putting pressure on Harry's broken ribs and constricting his breathing.

"Let's see what you've been telling others, huh?" snarled Vernon, pressing down harder on his nephew's chest, making him whimper, tears springing from his pain filled green eyes as they had done many times before. Uncle Vernon ripped open the letter, reading through it quickly, his face turning almost as white as Harry's, pressing his foot down harder all the while.

Harry took large gulps of air as Uncle Vernon released the pressure from his chest. Vernon kicked his nephew, sending him flying into the wall and pushing the shards of china even deeper into his body. Harry yelped but otherwise made no movement.

"Clean up this mess, boy! I need to talk with Petunia and you'd better have this all cleaned up and be gone by the time I get back, understood?"

"Yes, uncle" whimpered Harry from his spot against the newly stained wall.

Harry cleaned up his blood and repainted the stained parts of the wall. He put the cleaning things away and went to his cupboard, moving gingerly.

He lay down on his bed, wondering why he kept trying, why he didn't just give up. He sat up, wincing, and began to slowly remove the hundreds of tiny shards of crockery from his body.

Harry lay back down, staring at the underside of the stairs and hoping with all his might that no-one else had to go through the same stuff he'd been through. Little did he know that, miles away, another boy was thinking the same thing.

I'M A LINE BREAK AND I'M HERE TO TELL YOU THAT IT'S TIME TO GO TO MALFOY MANOR NOW! LOVE FROM LINE BREAK!

Draco stared at the ceiling. He was lying on the floor because he knew he'd be in so much trouble if he destroyed his expensive silk sheets. He was actually excited for once, he was finally going to Hogwarts, away from his father and the place that held so many bad memories. He'd be away from his father for the entire school year (there was no way he'd be coming home for the Christmas and Easter holidays). He could hardly wait.

He got up off the floor, leaving a puddle of blood behind. He had a shower, washing the dried blood off his body. He got out and dried himself, wincing as his towel caught on his newest cuts. He went to the secret passage in his wardrobe and got out a Muggle first aid kit (he'd snuck out and bought some one night, knowing that this would help him heal faster and be less suspicious to his father than using potions) and bound his wounds.

Draco pulled his pajamas over the bandages and limped over to his large bookshelf. His father had told him that reading was a girly pastime but for once Draco didn't care, he loved reading, it was his escape from the horrors of his life and he loved to learn, maybe if he could get the best grades in the year his father might actually be proud of him.

Draco was actually really smart, which worried him somewhat, he knew that he'd somehow have to convince the hat (yes, he knew about the hat. He had read _Hogwarts: A History_ ) to put him in Slytherin, even though he secretly really did not want to be in that house. His father would be unspeakably mad if Draco wasn't in Slytherin and Draco couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of things his father would do to him.

Draco sighed, pulling a book about Magical Creatures off his shelf. He lay down on his bed and drowned out his life with the words.


End file.
